Rocking with Love

Built with tender hands
and love for his daughter,
she happily rocked through

childhood. Then with tiny fingers
wrapped around books, they
rocked like her – smiles spreading
across their soft cheeks.
Adorable animals enhanced
the white finish – charm never
to be erased. As memories

of her father flooded her mind
like a scrapbook of Polaroids,
Grandma watched her grandchildren
with a full heart, for that special rocker
embraced new generations
with the gentlest rhythm of love.

Our son in 1997, enjoying Grandma’s rocking chair that her father built. This precious little rocker has been passed down through our family for each new grandchild to feel the love.
Bigger smiles.

Lauren Scott (c) 2021 ❤️

Forever Steady

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Staring up high and beyond their treetops
Where birds create their family dwellings
Dreams begin to bloom and worries lessen
Manifesting a most profound message
Some have feared the footstep of humanity
The sound of distant sawing instilling fear
Instead, in this sacred place they are protected
Never will their integrity feel threatened
The welcomed footsteps upon their soil
Arrive gently as awe-struck souls
Their majestic beauty is never-ending
Their glorious existence is transcending
Living in blissful peace with other flora
They communicate through deep-winding roots
Linked with the embrace of Mother Earth
How lovely to live in this space of Grandeur!

Lauren Scott © 2018
Photo: LScott, Hendy Woods State Park
 

Their Year

Dear Grandma,

Before my life
began, your light
was growing 
dim.
You were going to

Heaven. I wish you
didn’t 
have to leave
because I never got
to 
meet you. I miss
you so 
much. I wish
we could’ve 
read and
played together. I wish
I could’ve held your

hand while we took
a walk together…
I can’t see your bright
smile 
that daddy told
me about or 
your pretty
brown eyes. I 
can’t hear
your voice, either, 
but I
know you’re my Angel in

the skies.
Sometimes, I want to visit
Heaven just to tell you,
“I Love You.”

(These thoughts are in memory of my
mother-in-law, Diane, who passed away

in January 1991 – written from my young
daughter’s perspective, who was born

later that same year.
Of course, Diane never met our son,
either, who was born four years later.
And even though that was a long time
ago, it still breaks our hearts that she
never knew her grandchildren.) ❤

Lauren Scott ©